Sir Viv: The original master-blaster

In all of Cricketdom, I doubt there is anyone who would seriously challenge the view that Viv Richards was one of the best and most intimidating players to wield a blade. At the crease he played with a confidence and a swagger that suggested to all that he was in charge of proceedings, and the bowlers and fielders were serving at his pleasure.

I first saw him in the flesh during Packers World Series Supertest at Sabina Park, Jamaica in 1979. He didnt make all that many, 40-odd if I recall on the day I was there, but his stay in the middle was unforgettable. Of all the West Indian players on show I found him the easiest to spot, despite the presence of giants like Joel Garner and Colin Croft. Vividly etched in my mind were the Antiguans regal gait, the leisurely way he jogged a single -- as if daring the fielders to throw him out -- and, most importantly, the grandeur of his stroke-play.

To my juvenile and jejune mind, King Viv could do whatever he pleased. The great man could manhandle any attack, hit any delivery to the boundary, bring any bowler to his knees. As far as I was concerned he could make a hundred any time he liked, and only a proclivity towards boredom, or some sort of chivalry, prevented him from doing so. Whenever he was focused and in the mood, however, nothing could stop him.

This wasn't true, of course, not even Bradman was that good. But to me, and my schoolmates, fully consumed by the great game, there was nobody like Viv. Nobody had strode unto the scene and played with such fearlessness and such aplomb. To our way of thinking he could do no wrong.

The first time I believe I doubted his omnipotence was during the 1983 World Cup finals at Lords, when, despite starting his innings like a runaway locomotive, he failed to bring us the title we thought was ours by right. The West Indies had won the first two World Cup competitions, and being the worlds best team by some distance, we felt all we had to do to collect our third title was turn up.

We were sadly mistaken, and the Caribbean was plunged into mourning when our champion team failed to chase a paltry 183, falling 43 runs short, gifting India their first hold on the title.

Earlier that same year India toured the West Indies. The first test in Kingston was, for the most part, a rather pedestrian affair. West Indies replied to Indias 251 with 254; the fourth day was lost due to rain, and with 168/6 at tea on the last day the game seemed headed for a dull draw.

Andy Roberts had other ideas, however, and his highly effective post-tea spell, generously sprinkled with short, climbing deliveries proved too much for the visitors and they were dismissed for 174, leaving the West Indies a target of 172 runs in about 28 overs.

What followed was the most exciting session of cricket I have ever witnessed.

This was chiefly due to an innings of 61 made from 36 deliveries from Sir Viv. The innings he regards as the best of his career. The Master Blaster strode to the wicket with the score at 65/2, took his guard, and viewed the surroundings like a monarch surveying his domain. His first scoring stroke was a massive six, and he then proceeded to fire the crowd into a frenzy. Fielders were surplus to requirements; Viv simply bisected them, even with almost everyone manning the boundary. Boundary ropes were redundant; Viv simply lifted deliveries into the crowd.

When he fell, caught by Kapil Dev off Mohinder Amarnath, his team was 156/5 with 16 runs needed. A few minutes later Jeffrey Dujon blasted a full toss for six to achieve an impossible victory in fast-fading light.

Nocturnal listeners to the commentary in India, halted at tea in those days to be updated in the morning hours, were flabbergasted to find they had lost a game they thought would have been a lacklustre draw.

Vivs was a Twenty20 innings long before the genre was invented. His strike rate of 169.4, nothing to scoff at today, was unreal in 1983. Three years later, when he dismembered an England attack in his homeland, Antigua, he was even more brutal, hitting a century off just 56 deliveries, a record that stands to this day. If Sir Viv could wreak such havoc in his time, imagine how much more devastating he would have been with todays turbocharged bats and shorter boundaries.

How would he have measured up in todays Indian Premier League and the other T20 leagues that now dominate the cricket landscape?

Obviously, there is no way of knowing. But if I had to, I would guess that just as he ruled the world those years ago, he would still be King today.